Two Worlds
by JumpinPopTarts
Summary: Ed x Alphonse Heidrich. Ed tumbles into our world tormented by confusion and grief, luckily he finds a few friendly faces to help him on his way...and one which might be a little more than friendly...
1. This isn't Risembool

**Title: Two Worlds**

_By JumpinPopTarts_

Hello guys, long time no see! Man, its good to be back…XD

For those who've read one of my stories before (and I don't think there'll be many of you, since up until now I've been writing South Park; a very different genre to this one!) I'm not giving up on South Park, but have since found a massive new addiction; the awesomness that is FMA!

The pairing's kinda odd, I know, but most of the other suggestions disgust me (EnvyxEd??? YUCK), and for those who've watched The Conqueror of Shamballa should know there's _TONNES _of canon regarding the pairing I've chosen (hello? That bit on the rocket near the end? So obvious!) A coupla days after watching that scene I decided to search for it and…gasps was appalled by the lack of fanfiction about the two of them! So of course I had to add to it…and here we are!

This is the first ever time that I've written a fanfiction for an anime, let alone an FMA one (though definitely not my first shounen-ai! ;-) ) so please be nice to me and leave a comment or two. Praise and constructive criticism are welcomed equally.

And above all, enjoy!

Oh yeah; WARNING: MOVIE AND END OF SERIES SPOILERS (well duh; why else would Alphonse Heiderich be in this??)

**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA. If I did there would be slash and a sequel to 'Shamballa'. Nuff said.

Edward Elric crashed into our world in a blaze of fire, tears and anger.

His cape billowed behind him as he flung his arms wide, dazzling golden eyes sliding closed in acceptance, craving oblivion. But something kept him conscious, kept him going; a single name churning through his mind, over and over and over

_Al…Al…Alphonse!_

But his brother would never answer him, he never could. Because Ed had sacrificed everything, his heart, his soul, his body, binding it in that terrible alchemic circle and sealing himself from his brother forever.

But if Al had survived….a smile curled across Ed's bloodless lips….then that was all that mattered.

He had expected the grasping hands of the gate, the black demons that had taken both Envy and (all those years ago in Risembool) Al's body, to come for him. But instead the void of rainbow light that surrounded him began to solidify, shifting splashes of colour becoming streets, roofs, chimneys…

But already it was too much. Drained by all the pain, the grief and the loss, Ed's body did the one thing that his mind had never allowed, and shut down, plunging the boy into deeper darkness before his limbs had so much as touched the ground.

Which was a good thing, really, because nobody would want to be awake when they hit a concrete pavement from 100 feet up.

_Three Days Later_

Someone had hit him over the head with a sledgehammer whilst he slept, Ed decided as the world slowly blinked back into focus, there could be no other explanation.

His entire body rung like a gong after its been struck, shooting pains lancing from his fingers to his toes, not to mention the angry red fireworks going off inside his skull. At least his back was padded by what felt like a bed mattress; so much for small mercies. As his eyes began to slide open, Ed snarled out another curse; he had a black eye too. Great, just great.

_Where was Winry when you needed her?_

"Edward?" The voice was coming from somewhere above by his feet, the words far off and rumbling, like distant thunder. It should have been soothing but Ed's head hurt far too much for that right now.

"_Gothefuckawaaay_…" he growled into the pillow beneath his head, unconsciously reaching for his automail arm; whoever was bothering him was about to get a transmuted knife up his a-

Nothing happened.

His human fingers touched automail, but this time there was no thrill of light, no half-instinctive transmutation circle…and more worrying still…no response from his arm. None at all.

Oh god, not again!

"_Winry_!" he yelled, almost by instinct, still half blind with sleep and painkillers. "Winry!"

The sheets tangled around his legs; ah, he must be in his bedroom at Risembool! He should be on his feet in no time...if only his favourite mechanic would answer him!

"Winry, my arm's not working again! Don't tell me you forgot to add another screw and-….huh?" he stopped. Because the bedstead he's just banged his foot against was made of iron, not wood like his one at the Rockbell's. Because these tangling sheets were rough and white, smelling of hospital rather than sleepy teenage boy. Because the small white room around him was not his own.

And the dark-clothed figure sitting at the end of his bed certainly wasn't Auntie Pinako.

"Hohenheim!" Ed yelled despite himself, his whole body dissolving in a whirl of limbs as he tried to get as far away from his father as possible. His father was dead! Sealed in the world beyond the gate….so this person had to be a homunculus! There was no other explanation.

Automatically, his hand fumbled again for that automail arm, for that wild surge of alchemy-

But all he got in exchange this time was a loud thumping noise and a sharp blow to the head! Instead of springing out of bed, the sheets had twisted and he'd slid backwards, to be dumped unceremoniously on his arse, right on the hard wooden floor.

Emphasis on _hard_.

From his seat by the bedstead, Hohenheim began to stand, a half-smile on his face as he moved towards his son…

Ed kicked, Ed growled, Ed cursed, but the fall had trapped his small body between the bed and the wall, wedging his thighs up to his chest and rendering his other limbs useless; the more he moved them, the further he slid down the gap.

Hohenheim was standing over him now, speaking in a tone so calm that it unnerved his struggling son.

"Ed…"

"Back off!" Ed growled, swinging his human arm at his father and cursing again as a wave of pain swept down from the finger joints. Since when had his hand been bandaged up like that? "What've you _done_ to me?!"

Hohenheim was smiling for real by this time

"Just like my son." He said, amused, then "Only you could pass through the gate and defy equivalent exchange, for a second time no less, and still expect to come out in one piece!"

"Hardly one piece!" Ed grumbled, wincing as he realised that his ankle was bandaged too. At least the injuries were starting to make more sense now; last time he'd fallen as a spirit, into the body of the other Edward Elric. This time, however, he'd fallen with his body as well as his soul, and flesh doesn't take too kindly to being bashed against the ground. "That damn transmutation could have killed me…was meant to kill me…" he realised darkly, holding up his human palm and staring at it, as though expecting it to vanish before his eyes.

"Why am I alive?" he asked softly, flexing his fingers. "I shouldn't be. I should be…gone." The pain in his eyes made Hohenheim shift uncomfortably; the thought of his own son suffering so much saddened him beyond words. He spoke then, saying the first thing that came to his mind. Anything to take the haunted look from that young face.

"I take it that you coming here was the result of trying to bring Alphonse back." His brows furrowed in concern for his youngest son, even though the two had barely seen each other since Al had been a baby. "I hope it worked."

"Well, I can only hope…" Ed answered, then frowned and added angrily "And how the hell do you know about all that?! I thought you'd been shut inside this world for good!"

"I have." Hohenheim answered sadly, still looking at Ed in that disturbingly pitying way; like a real father would to a son "I only learned the story through you, Ed. You've been lying here for days in a fever, and were anything but quiet! You mentioned Alphonse a lot, then something about the homunculi…then an awful lot about this girl, Winry." His eyes twinkled through the sadness "Is she the little blonde one from Risembool? You seemed very keen on talking about her…"

Ed's ears reddened and he wrenched himself free of the bed, still keeping his back warily against the wall. "She's a friend, that's all!" he snapped "A _friend_!"

"Of course." His father said, though it was obvious that he didn't believe him. A look into Ed's thunderous golden eyes, however, told him that it was time to drop the subject if he didn't want to end up needing automail himself.

"So she was the one who looked after your automail? Ah, so that was why you were yelling for her just now." Hohenheim said lightly, but frowned when he saw the state of that had once been Winry's finest work. The metal was twisted and furrowed as though scorched by fire, some screws popping out while others were welded into the surface. The elder Elric reached out and gently cradled the mangled metal arm, noticing that Ed did not wince, or appear to feel anything at all.

"Hmm." He clicked his tongue, picking at a loose piece of plating with one pondering thumbnail. "The nerve relays in this are dead. It appears that the Gate was unable to reattach the arm as skilfully as your Winry. But you're lucky to have it at all." He added sternly "It could have taken far more back than just your arm and your leg." His son didn't seem to notice the scolding, however, but was staring blankly at his limp arm, as though he could see right through it, into the world that it had been made in.

"My arm and my leg." Ed echoed hollowly, his eyes glassy as a memory flashed through his mind. A memory of a wide golden ballroom, Envy's knife in his heart, and a pair of desperate eyes within an empty suit of armour, blazing with the light of the Philosopher's stone…

…Then waking, wiping away his tears and feeling skin against his cheek for the first time in so many years…only to lose it moments later in exchange for something that was far more valuable; the life of his brother.

"That's right." Ed murmured numbly, trailing his human fingers against his metal forearm. "I remember now. Warmth…skin… bones….feeling…" The words wedged in his throat and his human hand withdrew, fingers clenching into fists to hide the tears in his eyes. "Al won them for me." He whispered "And now I'll never get them back."

"I think that Alphonse would just be relieved that you were alive." Hohenheim said truthfully, half turning and rummaging with something on the dresser. Ed wasn't interested in finding out what, though; he was staring at his lap, his brother's memory like a weight across his young shoulders.

"But he won't know that." The former state alchemist murmured, letting his saffron hair sweep forward to hide his watery eyes. "I'll never be able to tell him from this side of the gate."

"Not yet." Ed jumped as something warm and sweet-smelling was pushed under his nose. He looked up and saw his father smiling, a warm mug of medicinal tea nestled in his outstretched hands. The boy took it absently, but kept his eyes on his father, far more interested in what his words had suggested than stupid medicine.

"What do you mean, not yet?" But Hohenheim was already pouring ordinary tea into a second cup, his eyes on the crockery and not his impatient son.

"Patience, Edward." He said after a while, blowing on his cup to cool it. "You can barely stand, but I know that the moment tell you, you'll be off to find them in a flash, and probably get yourself hurt all over again."

"There's a 'them'?" Ed asked, his brilliant mind already ignoring the warning. "You mean someone knows about the gate? About Amestris? You mean they know a way I can get back, even without alchemy?" His words were cut short when his father raised one large hand to silence him, making shushing sounds in the back of his throat, as though trying to calm a small child.

"Slow down, or you're going to dislodge the bandages."

"I don't care about the bandages!" Ed growled, unconsciously trying to wave his automail arm in frustration. The result was a strange mechanical grinding noise and a muffled yelp as Ed clutched his shoulder, trembling as the shocks subsided. "_D_…_Damn_, that hurt."

"Your body's signals are just running into nothing now, creating a short circuit." Hohenheim said calmly "Until you get it repaired, you'll find yourself doing that several times a day, and I promise you that it won't start working again that way."

"I can do this one-armed if I have to!" was the arrogant reply, but it was quieter, and more than a little doubtful.

"Just take it slowly." Hohenheim advised "Drink your tea, get some rest, and let me study that arm a little. Who knows, I might even be able to make you a replica…but only if you're around to test it on. You-"

"Alright, _alrigh_t; I get it." Ed muttered irritably. "Stay here and get better like a good dog, or you'll tell me nothing, right?"

"Pretty much." The older Elric smiled "But I promise I will tell you, and sooner than you think." Shooting his son an encouraging smile, he shifted forward a little and held his tea cup in his hands.

"To the future?" Hohenheim announced, raising his mug in a mock toast. His son smiled after a pause and lifted his own, letting the two chink together, silhouetted against the sunlight spilling in from the window.

"To the future."

Slowly, Ed sat back on his pillows, raised the cup to his lips, and drank.

And from that moment onwards, Ed's long road to recovery, and the start of his new life on Earth began to unfold.

The next few weeks were really hard, for both Edward and Hohenheim. The pain would come in waves, both physical and mental, leaving Ed numb and shivering, his eyes calling back that frightening, glassy look. But, as the days passed, these terrible bouts became fewer, and weaker. Hohenheim would be there every time, through the good days and the bad, always hovering on the edges with bandages, medicine tea, and tantalizing snapshots of news from the world outside.

Between all the healing, both Ed and Hohenheim formed an unspoken kind of truce, which turned into tolerance, then forgiveness for all the wrongs that they had done each other. Finally, by the end of the third week, Ed surprised them both by greeting Hohenheim in the morning, not with his usual "Morning Hohenheim" but with a warm, spontaneous.

"Hey dad!" Two simple words, but ones that meant so much.

Ed had lost his world, his home and his alchemy, but somewhere in this mess of grief and despair, he had found a father again.

And for now, that was enough.


	2. The Green Bandanna

**Chapter 2: The Green Bandana.**

…In which we see Ed's dorkiness, and watch him travel across the world, only to find his destination not nearly as friendly as he had hoped.

I really tried to stick to the clues given by the last episode in the first half of this chapter; so I hope they tie up well! and it was great to actually write about where I live (England, not Transylvania…though that would be so cool!) for once; far too many fics are set in America or Japan, nice places and all but its good to write about home.

For those of you who get bothered by pronunciation; there's a character in this chapter called Andrej Grei. It's a Transylvanian name I looked up on the net, but its pretty simple to say really, despite the funny letters. Basically, it's "Andray Gray" and yes, he deserves a stupid name like that, because he's mean and he's horrible, as you will see if you read this chapter.

Enjoy…and please send me a review or two to tell me what you think!

ooooooooooooooooooooo0000000000000000000000000ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_6 weeks later_

"_Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!_" the train's whistle flared across Waterloo station, London, its magnificent platform emptying quickly as the train made ready to leave.

Flags were waved, whistles blown, hands signalling left right and centre as people bustled to and fro. Nobody had time to stop for breath, but if they had, their attention might be drawn to a small blonde boy sitting by the window in one of the carriages, a bundle of papers in his hand and a look that was not quite of this world in his big golden eyes.

Ed sighed as the train pulled away, the clatter of wheels on rail so like those in Amestris, yet so unlike. His grip tightened suddenly, causing the paper within it to crackle in protest. Smiling guiltily, Ed reached out and smoothed the crumpled sheets. It wouldn't do to crease this now, not when it was to be the first step on his journey back to through the Gate.

His gaze drifted once more to the front page, skimming over a title that he'd read a hundred times before, but one that never ceased to send a tingle of excitement through his veins.

**A Method of Reaching Extreme Altitudes**

**Liquid Fuelled Rocket**

**By Richard Hutchins Goddard**

He'd found the pamphlet only five days earlier, whilst perusing one of the little bookshops in the shopping districts where Hohenheim lived. His father had never shown an interest in these types of places, but Ed thrived on them, his quick mind mastering not only the English language, but a smattering of German and a basic knowledge of the history of this world. Languages and politics aside, though, he had discovered a new all consuming interest, one that gave him the same racing thrill as any transmutation circle.

Rockets.

_One week earlier, in Ed's favourite bookshop, ten minutes walk from House Hohenheim_

Sunlight streamed into the dim little shop as a familiar silhouette pushed open the door. A small bell ringing shrilly to announce his arrival, but the call was no longer needed; he had been there enough times to be expected now.

"Afternoon, Mr Eckle!" Ed called, as he always did, into the dingy back room. As always, there was no reply. The young alchemist sighed and set the morning paper on the counter; a present for the shop's owner once he emerged, before settling himself in his favourite corner and pulling a book from the shelves.

This wasn't any random selection, the whole corner her been meticulously labelled and categorised, by none other than Ed himself, creating a mini library of his favourite volumes. They ranged from thick to thin, easy reading to musty tomes, from the mouldering leather-bound hulks to the slim, glossy manuals of the modern day. Each one had a different date, author and story but all ran under the same theme.

Astronomy and Space travel.

Today's choice was a slender pamphlet speckled with design notes and scientific jargon, something that Ed could now translate as easily as a road sign. The boy's heart beat a little faster as he prised the pages open, his eyes scanning the pages with even more enthusiasm than usual. He'd been looking forward to reading this one since yesterday and, now that he had it, he wasn't going to let it out of his sight without reading it cover to cover.

His passion for space had begun with a news article that he had found on the solar system the first time that he had been the Mr Eckle's shop. The article had been a children's guide to the nine planets, with a rough reference to space in general. A pretty raw overview, but more than enough to whet his appetite.

And, after days of perusing, the search had ended with this very paper, found stuffed between two mouldering tomes on philosophy. In fact, he only discovered it because those exact books happened to fall on his head when he was trying to reach a higher shelf (yet another reason to curse his shortness….though we all know he's not actually_ that_ small….honest!). After the curses were over and the clearing up had started, Ed had spied the first line and been hooked instantly, one instinct yelling joyfully in his ears.

Strange contraptions spun from steel, running on fire and fast enough to reach the stars…or even another world.

_This _had to be what he was looking for!

"It doesn't seem like much." The store clerk had told him when Ed had rushed up to him after the discovery, demanding to know where the pamphlet had come from and the whereabouts of the person who made it "I'll give it to you for free, if you like." Ed's ecstatic face had brought a smile to the old clerk's eyes and he had shown him another corner stuffed full of manuals, from the earliest aviation sketches to the most advanced mechanics.

Of course, Ed had absorbed it all, coming every day to read and chat to the store owner, who, despite being hopeless at gadgetry, was a welcome change to the quiet of Hohenheim's simple house.

"Goddard's first in his field, of course." The clerk had said one day "But if you're really looking for a way to get started then I'd start a little lower down in the business. Take this article now…" he waved the morning paper underneath Ed's nose, showing a grainy photograph of some scientist and a mass of wires and steel plates in the background.

"_Transylvanian Professor Stuns Western World with His Wonder Machine."_ Ed read the title aloud and frowned at the little man in the shot, his face too blurred to be seen clearly. "Looks more like a bucket of bolts to me."

"Always the skeptic aren't we, young sir?" The clerk clicked his tongue and dropped the article into the teenager's lap. "This man might not be famous yet, but he's clever and he's resourceful, much like yourself."

"Hardly." Ed countered flatly "Nobody's given me a _chance_ to built fancy machines like that."

"Well then, this may be that chance. Think on it, boy." The clerk had replied before turning back to his books, relieved to be among their silent pages again and not have to deal with this disturbingly inquisitive young man. The boy shone so bright, with so much enthusiasm and energy, that it was like having a conversation with a lighthouse lantern, with your every flaw exposed and questioned every time it turned your way.

The boy certainly was an admirable soul.

Had Ed heard even half of the old clerk's thoughts, he would have scoffed in an instant. In that moment he felt anything but bright and bold and brave. There was so much to this world that he didn't know; he was like a child taking its first steps, lost and lonely with so much ahead of him and very little behind.

But worrying was not Ed's style. Instead, he shoved the article back under his nose and devoured yet another page of information, committing it all to memory and taking another step on that long, long road to the future.

A road that, very soon, would lead him to Transylvania.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo0000000000000000000000ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_Back on the train. Ed's memories of the week leading up to the journey._

The plan had lain dormant in Ed's mind ever since that day, but he had only worked up the courage to tell his father earlier that morning, along with his one-way train ticket to Transylvania, Goddard's pamphlet and the address of the famous Oberth.

"Goddard, huh?" Hohenheim had said quietly, with only mild interest. Ed wrinkled his nose at the memory and flipped open the report, scanning the diagrams and theorems that he already knew off by heart. Trust his father not to understand; he spent far too much time with the Thule Society nowadays anyway.

Yes it was Goddard's pamphlet that he was reading, but instinct told him that Oberth was more likely to include him in his plans. Mr Eckle had been right. After all, what jumped up American scientist would take a sixteen-year-old 'English' blonde seriously, no matter how much of a knack he seemed to have for machines?

Ed smiled as he thought of his newly discovered gift, which seemed to have perfectly replaced his talent for alchemy. On Earth, the things he couldn't transform with a clap, he could now shape with cogs and screws almost as quickly. The hours in the bookshops had helped him immensely, and now he could disassemble, reassemble and repair almost anything in Hohenheim's house, something that his father didn't know whether to be proud of or annoyed by.

The smile widened

Heh; Equivalent Exchange again.

Finding Oberth would take him to the other side of the world, away from Goddard's America, from England, from Germany, from everywhere he had ever been in this planet. But Ed was not afraid; why should he be? He'd been crossing dimensions long before he's crossed continents. Hohenheim's refusal to come with him wasn't surprising either; his father was at the university almost daily now, coming home at nights with his eyes bright, his voice alive with stories of gods and legends, and of a land called Thule where anything could happen.

"It's Amestris, Ed!" he had cried only a few days ago, half-prancing through their humble kitchen until even the saucepans rattled out an applause. "I know it! This group, this Thule Society, hold the key to the way back home!"

That, Ed soon found, had been the information that his father had promised him in the early stages of his recovery. To Hohenheim's great surprise, Ed shared none of his enthusiasm for the project, and seemed more interested in old Mr Eckle's shop than the elaborate displays conducted at the Society. The boy had patiently waited for him to explain all the laws behind Thule and the process of trying to reach it, but had refused to attend any meetings, or even meet Hohenheim's new colleagues. Disappointment had filled both of them on that day, and unfortunately it wasn't the first let-down for Ed:

For all his poking and prodding, his father hadn't been able to fix his automail either. Instead he had built a prototype of Ed's arm and was now trying to construct one entirely from scratch. The finished product, he said, would be ready in a few weeks, but Ed couldn't wait that long. Dr Oberth's rockets were calling to him, and he knew that if he delayed any longer, then he would lose the courage to go at all.

So now, sitting on the train, his damaged automail arm still in a sling and the pamphlet in his hand, Ed leaned his head against the window and frowned a little, thinking of his father's hopes. He, Ed, wanted nothing more than to return to Amestris, to return to Pinako and Armstrong, to Scheska and Riza and Roy…and Winry….especially Winry.

And Al, if he was even there.

Grief knifed into his stomach and Ed sat upright, his face creased with pain. Yes, he wanted to return more than anything else in existence. But alchemy had taught him to think in science and, even if it did not work in this world, the principles were too thoroughly ingrained for him to start believing in myths and legends now. Whatever this Thule place was, and if it even existed, he would never trust it as blindly as his father did.

Instead, he would built his own escape; a miracle of iron and steel and wire that would catapult him away from this world and out into the starry sky.

A starry sky in which he knew Amestris lay.

After that, it would only be a matter of finding it.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo00000000000000000000000oooooooooooooooooooo

_Late that evening. Latvik station, Transylvania_

The train hissed to a halt, engulfing the already misty platform with trails of white steam. As Ed reached out to open the door he caught a glimpse of silver light streaming from the sky. Looking up, he saw the moon above the mountains, glowing like a great white eye and ringed with bands of dark cloud.

The sight made him shiver, but the scientist within him quickly pushed superstitious thoughts to the back of his mind. The moon was a large mass of rock, devoid of life and serving no purpose save moving the tides and reflecting the light from the sun. Nothing to be scared of.

How wrong he was.

The young alchemist caught one of the waiting taxis from the station into the nearest town, Levschvik, which was supposedly where doctor Oberth's famous university was. He would get out of the taxi at the front gates of the university, knock and ask for the rocket scientist, and arrange an appointment if he'd already gone home for the night (it was only nine pm though, so Ed was reasonably optimistic). If luck was with him, then he'd have his first encounter with the rocket engineer done and dusted by ten, leaving enough time to find lodgings for the night. Simple enough. The whole thing would have worked perfectly in England, so why not here?

But this was not England, and holes appeared in his plan before it had even begun to form:

The driver didn't know where the university was. And what was more, he was a balding, grumpy, middle aged man who wanted to get home to his wife and kids, not be driving smart blonde upstarts through street after street. What was more, he seemed even more intent on letting Ed know just_ how_ pissed off he was… every few seconds.

Eventually, Ed got tired of his sullen answers and constant bickering, and ordered the driver to stop. The young alchemist sighed as he swung his suitcase over his shoulder, gritting his teeth as the driver spat a curse at him and screeched away. It was either him leaving like this, Ed mused, or him making sure his automail arm got to know the driver's face an awful lot better. Tempting as the second option was, he'd only been in the country for a matter of hours and didn't want to be sent home or arrested _quite_ that quickly.

Another sigh sent him on his way.

The university was easy enough to spot (another reason to curse that damn driver) with high battlements and a thick wooden door set into one side, more like the entrance to a castle than a study hall. But the sign above it was unmistakeable and Ed marched up to it without a pause, seizing the thick bronze knocker and banging for all he was worth.

"Excuse me? Hey! Is there anyone in there? I want to arrange an appointment with Doctor Oberth!" The knocks echoed away on the other side, but there was no answering call.

"Hello!" another rain of bangs with no reply. The sharp thumps echoed out into the empty street, emphasising just how alone Ed was.

Or was he?

"Hey, look over there." Voices drifted from across the street behind him, so faint that it took Ed several moments to realise that he was being talked about, which was long enough for another voice to reply to the first.

"Yeah, what about it? It's just some foreign kid."

"Yeah, short, blonde and foreign." A third voice added, but the next one's words were masked as Ed knocked loudly on the door again, trying not to sound desperate. It sounded something like 'easy pickings', and he didn't like the sound of that one bit.

A shout from across the road made him flinch, this time it was directed right at him.

"Hey, blondie!"

Ignore them, _ignore them_! Ed's instincts screamed and he turned back to the door, raising his human fist and banging even harder with that cursed brass knocker.

"Hello! Is anybody there? _Hello?_ I need to talk to doctor Oberth!"

"Nobody home, kid." A voice breathed in his ear, and Ed whirled round to find that all three youths had prowled closer, cracking knuckles and staring at the smaller boy's suitcase with hungry eyes.

Ed's grip tightened and he looked the tallest thug, a youth of about eighteen with a green bandanna in his hair, straight in the eye, daring him to come closer.

_Oh no you don't._

"Aww look at him!" one of the smaller boys (though not _that_ much smaller; Ed barely reached the elbows of any of them) "Looks like he's not gonna come as easy as we thought!"

Bandana-boy snorted, regarding Ed as a shark regards its dinner.

"You seriously think this midget's going to put up much of a fight? He's got his arm in a sling, for pity's sake!"

Any normal, sane person would have taken the hint and run right now, especially with their arm, as the youths had said, trussed up in a sling.

But we all know that Ed isn't any normal person. Or sane, for that matter.

And that jumped up Transylvanian thug had just said the magic word.

"WHO'RE YOU CALLING MIDGET?!?!" came a high-pitched roar from somewhere by the youth's feet, followed moments later with a pint-sized boot straight in his jaw. More took out the shins of both him and the youth next to him, toppling them to the floor, but Green Bandana (the leader) dodged his attack and Ed skittered backwards, his tiny body already tensed for the next assault.

"He got me!" The first youth whined, sitting up painfully and rubbing his jaw. "For a dwarf he can't half kick."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A DWARF SO SMALL THAT HE'D FALL BETWEEN THE COBBLESTONES AND NOT EVEN GET STUCK?????" another punch sent the youth back to the ground, though this time several metres back from where he had been before.

Yep, Izumi had taught Ed well.

Unfortunately, Ed's years in Amestris had taught him not just to rely on martial arts, but on alchemy instead. Now, blinded by rage, he prepared himself to use that unseen power…and that was to be his downfall.

The sling slithered from his shoulder to the ground, his metal arm swinging freely now, but Ed was too worked up to notice. Instead, he looked Green Bandana (the only one still standing) straight in the face and yelled up at him as fiercely as he could.

"Right! You _asked _for this!"

With a inane grin splitting his lips, Ed bought his human palm smashing up to meet his automail one, calling the power of alchemy in from every particle of his being and-

-Nothing happened. The automail arm fell limp, as lifeless and broken as ever.

Ed's smile vanished. Everything froze.

_Uh oh._

The youth smirked and stepped a little closer. Green Bandana reached down and seized him by the collar, dragging the kicking, cursing, sixteen-year-old a foot in the air. Leaning forward, the youth purred into his ear, the words shivering with venom.

"Think you're so tough, kid? Well let me tell you; _nobody_ messes with Andrej Grey."

In the background, the blonde boy shuddered as he sensed Bandana's cronies picking themselves off the ground, their knuckles cracking and their eyes gleaming with rage.

He closed his eyes.

_This was going to hurt._

The next few moments were to be blocked from Ed's memory forever, recalled only as a whirlwind of endless pain, in which fists and feet crashed into him on all sides, knocking him to the floor, defenceless as a child. Green Bandanna, Andrej, loomed above him through the whole ordeal, his face glinting in the moonlight, colder than any automail.

Ed spat blood from his mouth and stared up at that terrible face, making sure to memorise every single feature, from the dark brows to the thin, shark-like smile. Why? Because he wanted to recognise him.

_Because Andrej Grey was not going to get away with this_.

Their eyes met, blind hatred sparking between them.

But then the final blow descended, and all was lost in darkness.

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_Right, this was probably the hardest chapter I've ever had to write! I worked so hard on this to try and make it flow but I still hate it, so please be nice to me if you review! Or at least add it to alerts, that would still make my day _

_The next chapters are going to move a lot quicker, as I've planned them out already, and I'll be submitting them soon if I get some feedback on this one! _

_Thank you!_


	3. Meeting Oberth

**Chapter 3: Meeting Oberth**

_Agh! I took to long to update! Sorry! X( I must stop procrastinating…Sorry this is also a bit of a quickie, it might be short but it still took ages to write. At the moment, I have about 3 more chapters written…but all of them are several chapters AFTER this one! Dotting around the plot has its price, I suppose._

_I've just realised how much I waffle in these author's comments! So I will stop now and just say I hope you like the chapter, and thanks for the reviews! You make me smile._

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_The next morning_

Ed groaned into the soft white pillow at his head, fingers twitching as he slowly rose away from his dreams and out into this bright, white reality. The sledgehammer feeling was back, he realised (and muttered another curse) only this time it was almost worse than before. Something tight was wound around his head, more of it around his elbows and chest. Even his familiar brown robes felt oddly light…a quick squint at his body confirmed his worst fears.

He was a mess.

Bruises speckled his limbs like titanic freckles, three fingers were broken and his foot was back in a cast. The tightness in his chest was explained as soon as he lifted his baggy white shirt (which wasn't his, he noticed with a small shudder) and saw that more bandages were encircling his chest, their cool whiteness stark against his purpling skin.

And what was more; his automail arm and leg had gone.

"Ah, you're awake!" someone said, in a thick Transylvanian accent, and Ed leapt about a foot in the air.

There was a little old man sitting in the corner of the room, or at least, that was what Ed's eyes told him first. Only when the man moved into the light did he see that he was actually quite young, thirty at most, but the stoop in his back and the lines around his eyes had aged him at least twenty years.

And he was holding an automail arm.

_Ed'_s automail arm.

"Fascinating prosthetics, you have there." The little man said mildly, ignoring the outraged splutters his patient had suddenly started making "You really must let me dismantle it some time; the circuitry is quite unlike anything I've ever seen, truly remarkable…"

"Whaat!" Ed cried, trying to sit up before the bruised muscles in his stomach dunked him back onto the bed again. Words pelted out of him, a confused jumble of questions and threats. "No! Who are you? And give me my automail back! It's mine! What've you _done_ to me?"

"I'm doctor Oberth, of course." Said the small Transylvanian, still fiddling with the arm. "The man whose name I believe you were hollering as those youths attacked you. And as for what I've 'done' to you; I would say I applied a few healing salves, several bandages and not much else. If you're talking about the injuries themselves, well, you can thank the street youths for that. I just cleared up the mess. So please do calm down, would you like some tea?"

The look Ed gave him quickly made that last question void.

"But that bastard with the green- I-I mean, the thugs that attacked me…" Ed's swearing stuttered to a halt under Oberth's stern gaze. The scientist seemed to possess an old man's severity along with his elderly stature.

"They were youths, nothing more." He said firmly "A fact of life in these parts. I suggest that you are on your guard a little more in future. You will find Transylvania a very different place to England, especially with your…_unusual _appearance."

"Thanks for the warning." Ed drawled, then frowned "But how do you know I came from England?"

"Your accent, for one." Oberth smiled "But I must admit that the best piece of evidence I had was your train ticket. It was the only thing found on you after the attack."

"And there was me thinking you were some kind of super sleu-…wait. What? Whaddaya mean the _only_ thing?" Ed's train of thought shattered and panicked as he realised the full implications of what Oberth had just told him. "But that means everything's gone! _Everything_! My tools, my calculations, my clothes…my books! God, my books!" His hands raked desperately through his dishevelled hair, "The bastards! The damn dirty little fuc-"

"That's quite enough, young man." Oberth's voice forced the curse words back down his throat. Ed took a couple of confused gulps of empty air, then gave up on the rant and hung his head, shoulders slumping and human arm picking at the bedsheet.

"I'm sorry." He said, genuinely humbled, but then his eyes darkened again "But they took Goddard's pamphlet…" the hand clenched on the thin coverlet "All my notes… all those diagrams…"

"There's more where that came from."

Ed stared at Oberth, open-mouthed at the suggestion that sentence had offered.

"Doctor..?" he asked, not daring to voice it aloud.

"Yes," The stooped engineer was still smiling calmly. He really was a strange sight; kind-eyed and pale-haired, his suit impeccably neat and with the automail arm draped incongruously across his knees. "I mean what I imply. I confess that perhaps I know a little more about you than I first gave away; your suitcase may have been stolen, but the notes within your jacket were not and, having read them, I must admit that it was impossible not to notice that you have a natural aptitude for engineering…some of those designs were quite extraordinary." The hint of admiration brought a flush to Ed's cheeks already he was sensing that praise from Oberth was praise indeed.

The older man just gave another serene smile and continued.

"Young man, I would like to offer you a place amongst my staff at my rocket building facility. Do you accept?"

"Of course!" Ed blurted, too bowled over to think of anything more polite to say.

Thankfully, the professor didn't seem to mind.

"Excellent! But first, what is you name?" Oberth asked, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling kindly, as though sharing a joke. He understood the near-ridiculousness at this turn of conversation, but in these conditions, and with his patient's obvious talent, a usual approach could hardly be expected. Ed, reading everything Oberth's expression offered, shrugged and grinned back.

"Edward." He said boldly "Edward Elric."

"And how old are you, Mr Elric? Thirteen? Twelve?"

"_Sixteen_." Ed replied through gritted teeth. He did _NOT _look _twelve_, for pity's sake!

"You're still very young." Oberth said, then smiled "But then again, so am I, and my nose for potential hasn't let me down yet. A prospective colleague needs guts and intellect like yours if I'm going to keep my industry running."

"Wait…You really mean you'd let me _work_ for you?" Ed asked, hardly daring to believe it. The pieces of the puzzle just seemed to be slotting together.

"Provided that you can prove yourself worthy of it." Came the reply "And that you tell me more about this arm, it really is quite fascinating..."

"Done." Ed grinned, excited enough to agree to anything now. Instantly, he swung his human leg over the edge of the bed and made to stand "When can I sta-_aaaaaart_!" His question turned into a shriek as he toppled back onto the bed with a thump. The blonde whacked his head on the wall, mumbling an Amestrian curse.

Great.

He'd forgotten Oberth still had his automail.

"Don't be so hasty!" His new employer chuckled, smoothing creases in his suit "There is your recovery to see to first. Considering what was done to you, I don't expect you'll be fit to work for at least a fortnight…which gives me plenty of time to sort out how to repair your… automail, you called it?" Ed nodded. "Automail. However…" a firm glint came into those kindly eyes then "I will not return your limbs to you unless you concentrate on your recovery. That means you do as I tell you and stay well clear of anything mechanical. Rest first, work later…and you will be more grateful for it, if not begging to _return_ to it, after a term in my office!"

With that, the older man got to his feet, daintily tucking the automail limb under his own arm and headed for the room's only door, picking up a walking cane from beside it as he did so.

"Sleep well, Mr Elric." He said, and closed the door, his cane clicking down some unseen hallway and out of earshot.

_He hadn't used a lock,_ Ed realised in the descending silence. _Not the window either_. He could get out if he wanted, go roam, explore, escape….

That train of thought soon came to an end, as his entire body was engulfed in a giant yawn. Smothering it with the back of his hand, Ed smiled ruefully and relaxed a little.

Exploring would be fun, but violating such simple rules after Oberth had been so kind would have just been rude (not to mention potentially costing him his new job).

Besides (much as he hated to admit it) his eyelids were already feeling heavy. Maybe this 'recovery' lark was going to be worth a little of his co-operation…if only for a while.

With a sigh, the battered teen slumped back onto the mattress and stretched out across the bed. He didn't bother with the sheet; Al would have nagged him for sleeping with his stomach out, but right then he was too tired to care.

_What a day_, he thought, even as his eyes slipped slowly closed, _what a day…_

Little did he know that, with this chance meeting, he had taken the first step on a long and dangerous road, and a day like this would only be one of many….

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End file.
